June 17The first day of our mini-break! We have an ordinary breakfast: lemon water, coffee, smoothie. After getting kid squared away and packing ourselves, more decaf coffee for the road. And off in the direction of Shenandoah National Park.

We arrive at lunchtime, too early to stop into our hotel room. So we scout out the small town of Luray, VA for someplace to eat, and end up at what is clearly the town's trendy hotspot: a combination coffeehouse/restaurant called "The Gathering Grounds." All small-town coffee-houses are required to make some kind of pun on the word "grounds." The clientele is an odd mix of student-types with laptops and elderly couples having a staid sandwich. Everyone is white, though, which is something that, after some years living just outside of DC, we now notice and remark upon. A sea of whiteness-- which I got used to after some years living in Montana-- now makes me feel uncomfortable, as though something potentially sinister were going on. We order coffee and chicken salad sandwiches; I have potato chips. The food is fine, the coffee terrible, even though it is most likely the best coffee in town.

We take a pleasant afternoon stroll along Luray's outstanding riverside walkways-- huge investments have been made here in green space and beautification, despite the tiny size of the town. There are more murals here in a small radius than practically anywhere else I have ever been. There are lots of ducks and other waterfowl-- a least bittern is there, and a black-crowned night heron, and a duck that I try and try to identify, but which does not seem to exist. Finally this helps (thanks, Cornell). Some kind of mallard-y hybrid, I reckon. And yet it looked like a totally plausible wild duck.

River with ducks, etc.

​When 4:00 rolls around, we go check out our cabin, which I can whole-heartedly recommend. For $95/night, there is a medium-sized bedroom (decorated with artificial flowers and teddy bears by someone's great-grandma, but no matter), a large bathroom with skylight, a small hallway/closet area with full-sized coffee pot, refrigerator, and real mugs... and not one, but two porches!-- a sunny front porch looking out on the parking lot (the only place where the wifi works well), and a lovely shaded back porch facing a burbling stream and, on the other side of the stream, forest. We buy coffees (decaf for me) in the hotel restaurant, and spend some time resting, hanging out on the back porch, enjoying the set-up. I mentioned, when I reserved the cabin, that we were celebrating our 5th anniversary, and the staff have left us an assortment of tiny "gift shop"-type gifts, including a Virginia shot glass decorated all over with little hearts.

We are not ready for dinner until what turns out to be late for Luray-- on a Friday night, lots of places seem to close at 8:00, or even earlier. We end up at a place called "Mok-N-She's" (a pun, I guess?) whose crowded parking lot makes it look popular, and general festooning with American flags strikes us as potentially alarming. However, Mok-N-She's turns out to be friendly, tasty, and cheap. We both eat BBQ sandwiches, topped with coleslaw, and french fries, and enjoy the heck out of them. From here on out, every restaurant meal we eat in the Luray area costs precisely $19-and-change (plus tip) for two people. (Hip "Gathering Grounds" cost us a few dollars more.) There is an artificial flower on the table in an American-flag pattern, and an artificial Christmas tree behind me covered in American-flag ornaments. My husband keeps mentioning, hopefully, that Flag Day just passed, but these things look like permanent fixtures to me.

Home to bed, all full of middle-American fried food and charm.June 18We sleep in a little, drink hotel-coffeemaker coffee on our back porch in the dappled morning sunshine. It is lovely. It's around 10:30 before we mosey on over to the hotel restaurant for some breakfast. We're kind of overwhelmed by yesterday's consumption of heavy food, so we have breakfasts on the lighter side: for me, 2 eggs, toast (homemade!), a fruit cup, decaf coffee. Then we have the restaurant ladies pack up some bag lunches for the road, and head into Shenandoah NP.

We stop at a rest area to pee and find that the Appalachian Trail passes right through. So we walk on a little tiny bit of it.

On the short Limberlost Trail.

The mountain laurel on the Limberlost Trail reminded me of my childhood.

​Driving, beautiful overlooks and vistas, a brief stroll here and there, a cup of good coffee-- at last!-- from the Park concession at Skyland. We eat our lunches late, around 3:00, sitting on boulders near the Crescent Rock Overlook. Mine is a turkey sandwich-- made from real, thick-sliced roast turkey, with lettuce and tomato, but unfortunately NOT on homemade bread this time but some kind of supermarket white bread that gums up and sticks to my teeth. Little sandwich baggie of ripple chips. An orange that turns out to be secretly rotten. An apple-cinnamon Nutrigrain bar (my mom would be so pleased). When we ordered our lunches, which had been billed as "sandwich, chips, fruit and drink," the waitress said in a worried voice, "I'm not sure if we have any candy bars left." We quickly assured her that it was ok, we didn't need any candy bars! But apparently these Nutrigrain bars were offered as a substitute. I hadn't been planning on eating mine, but when my orange was bad I needed something as solace.

So many vistas like this.

Big Meadows

​After lunch, a wander around Big Meadows, then back towards our cabin for a rest before dinner. We hang out on the porch, read, fall asleep. Concerned that everything will be closing again, I wake my husband a little after 7 to go forage for dinner. This time we drive to the next town, New Market, another 14 miles away, scout out all the nearby restaurants, and choose-- my husband chooses, I'll put the responsibility on him-- the Jalisco Mexican restaurant, which also has the advantage of being open until a sophisticated 10:30 on this Saturday night. As it turns out, my city-boy husband has never in his life been to a small-town Mexican restaurant and doesn't know the risks; but, in his defense, the place does appear to be run by genuine Hispanic people. There's a big free basket of standard fried tortilla chips, salsa that seems unusually mild, and the odd addition of a little dish of coleslaw to dip your chips into. Nothing unpleasant, even though the idea of coleslaw with chips is an unusual one. I add some habanero sauce to the slaw, and that improves the situation. My husband orders a burrito platter (one chicken and one beef burrito), and I order soft tacos with carne asada. The tacos are served (strangely, I think) with a choice of either lettuce and cheese or cilantro and onion. Why not all of the above? But I choose cilantro and onion, and my waitress nods approval, telling me "they're good that way" in a tone that suggests few people are so in-the-know. Then she proceeds to deliver tacos with lettuce and cheese instead, with an impassive expression that suggests there is no point in complaining. The "carne asada" seems entirely unseasoned, except for salt. There is no flavor whatsoever. I load them up with some more salsa (from the chips) and some habanero sauce (I don't typically use habanero sauce, but it wasn't very spicy either). These tacos are one of the blandest things I have ever eaten.

Meanwhile, my husband, who is really not very picky about food quality, seems stunned by his burritos. One is full of unseasoned shredded chicken and nothing else (except for the lettuce, cheese, sauce, and sour cream on the outside). The other is filled with some kind of oily ground beef. Much worse than my meal, but I feel his pain: I have eaten burritos like this before, in other small towns, in other times. To some extent, it is a matter of local taste rather than restaurant quality; for instance, the most recent Yelp review of this restaurant reads "My friend, Brad, and I stopped at this place on our way through to town. I had probably one of the best burritos in my life." Unless this review is intended as some kind of sick joke, I have to conclude that some people like this kind of aggressively bland cuisine. The check comes to $19.

I promise to make it up to my husband by taking him to the outdoor frozen custard place we saw on our way into New Market. There is a long line. The people in front of us have a couple of restless kids and are controlling them by grabbing arms and twisting. The vehicles in the parking lot are all massive. Everybody is ordering elaborate, often colorful menu items, many of which I cannot identify. Eventually we get our plain old custards-- a small vanilla cone for me, the plainest there is. Then we sit on a reeking bench outside a cigarette store that's closed for the night, and eat them. It is nice. But we are eager to go back to Luray. New Market just doesn't have the same friendly vibe.June 19Sunday morning; we're going home today. We have last coffees on our sylvan back porch. Late in the morning, one more stop at the Brookside hotel restaurant. We both have ham-and-egg scrambles (they also contain potatoes) with biscuits on the side. I have butter and honey on my biscuits. More coffee. Check: $19.

We are sad to leave the Brookside. While we are checking out, the owner asks us whether we have seen any bears wandering around behind the cabins. We haven't.

I have planned a long, meandering drive home, because I like that sort of thing. When we get back, my stepson will be coming for dinner in honor of Father's Day. So we stop at a farm stand, not far from Point of Rocks, MD, to pick up a few veggies. I buy sugar snap peas, a tomato, a red pepper, broccoli, and an entire large basil plant. We also buy a pie for dessert: apple walnut. Total cost $31.

Dinner is to be simple, given that we're coming home at 4:30, having a guest at 6:00. I roast a few vegetables for better flavor-- broccoli, red pepper, tomato-- then saute these with garlic, onion, sugar snap peas, and lots of fresh basil. At the same time cook spaghetti noodles. Combine all together with tons of shredded parmesan. Voila, balanced meal. Also a side salad of mixed lettuces, cilantro, and tomato, with a balsamic vinaigrette. Glass of white wine. Plus a Q ginger soda before dinner. Also, apple walnut pie, which is surprisingly good (you never know with "homemade" pies), and decaf coffee.

I had every intention of putting together an assemblage something like this one from Huffington Post, in which mostly male pundits complained about Hillary Clinton's voice quality last night during and after her acceptance of the nomination.

In fact, after watching the speech myself, I arose while saying to my husband, "I think she did pretty well! But just wait, people are going to be complaining about her facial expressions." You see, after the first few minutes (during which Clinton had smiled almost frantically, in a way that actually did bug me because of its manifest artificiality), Hillary settled back into her own speaking style, complete with occasional frowns and (at the climax of her speech) intense, flashing eyes. Now, don't get me wrong. I"m perfectly aware that, in a male speaker, an air of seriousness and an aura of intensity would be viewed as wholly appropriate, even charismatic. But how often have we heard from pundits that Hillary Clinton should smile more? I was afraid the same criticisms would instantly reappear.

(People all know that the smile originates with apes as a submissive signal, right? We smile, first and foremost, to demonstrate our non-aggression with each other. Friendliness. But we might want to pause before insisting that women, especially, must consistently telegraph their submissiveness. Any other waitresses out there been nudged by older male customers to "smile!" Does this happen to you much, male servers? How about you, white male presidents?)

So, I worried. And I assumed. And I figured today I would look around at responses to Clinton's speech, and easily gather more material nitpicking at her face, voice, clothing, and general demeanor than could possibly be assimilated into a short discussion of sexism in political commentary.

Um, maybe she's giving a long speech in a large arena and could use a glass of water. Poor old hag.

Unsurprisingly, the conservative press does not leave us without plenty of examples of this crap. The National Review's article about her convention speech called her presentation "her usual hectoring." A commenter on this piece revisited the "hag" meme: "The more Hillary speaks the more her poll numbers drop. Nobody wants a Hag in chief."

Apparently, the press has by now been called out so often for these misogynist attitudes that the National Review felt the need to write a separate defense of why their attacks on Clinton's voice and personality are not sexist. Their next article, "Hillary's Critics Don't Hate Her Because She's a Woman," (subtitle: "They Hate Her Because She's Hillary") begins with the sentence, "Hillary Clinton has a heinous, grating, and dissonant voice." But, the author argues, the fact that he has at times enjoyed the speeches of other women (Michelle Obama; Laura Ingraham; Sarah Palin) makes it impossible for sexism to be present in his critique. Hillary, in his view, is simply uniquely "unappetizing." (Just think about that word choice for a bit. Let's imagine, reader, that you are a Democrat who abhorred George W. Bush. Would you describe him as "unappetizing?" Or would you perhaps choose some other term that did not suggest he was a dish to be consumed?)

So... because Michelle Obama has an amazing talent for smiling widely while she speaks (a fact that I noted on Monday night, and immediately realized that this alone might account for her much greater popularity as First Lady)... does this then mean that requiring successful women to smile while speaking is not sexist? If you enjoy the dulcet tones of some women's speech and find another's to be "hectoring" and "lecturing," indeed "grating" and "heinous" (yet rarely comment on the vocal quality of men's delivery), does this mean that your vocal requirements for women are not sexist?

Or perhaps it's not that you hate women; it's that you hate women who don't act according to your sense of proper womanliness. From the comments section: "Part of why we hate her is because she is not a woman, Her ruthlessness makes Dick Cheney seem like Richard Simmons." So much to unpack here. Why bring poor Richard Simmons into it? With apologies to him, obviously this means "Hillary Clinton is so masculine that she could emasculate a tough guy like Dick Cheney."

Or, one can just keep it simple: "Hillary is as ugly as the bottom of an outhouse pit." Sounds like Trump channeling to me.

Okay, but here's where things get better. Up until now I have been (mostly) citing the articles and comments section of a markedly right-wing publication. Honestly, what would you expect to find? So, my plan for the second half of this piece was to head on over to the liberal blogs, where (in my admittedly outdated experience) plenty of misogynistic Clinton-haters also hang out, and find them saying the Same. Damn. Things.

Only they weren't.

Daily Kos, where I practically lived for 4 years from 2004-2008 (I met my husband there!), can always be counted on to have a substantial and loud contingent who support Hillary, and an equally substantial and loud contingent who support the Other Guy (in 2008, that was Obama; in this case, Bernie). That is still true, I think. But here are some things that the former Bernie supporters were saying about Clinton's speech:

What an amazing week. The four days gave people time to celebrate Bernie and the platform (and Clinton herself) commits to significant progressive priorities that will benefit so many. And I thought her speech last night was her best ever. [...] I'm (still) a Sanders supporter and (also) all in for Hillary.

I thought the convention was an incredible success and I enjoyed watching every minute of it. I am still sad about Bernie’s loss but I plan to volunteer for Hillary, which I was planning to do before the convention. After the convention I know more about Hillary and I’m very proud and excited that we will elect the first woman president in November [...] The speeches were amazing[...] Hillary’s speech was the topper. I’m so proud of her and of this country.

...​Hillary has not shoved the left out the door at all. Her speech outlined a very progressive agenda which included a good portion of Bernie’s message along with some ideas as to how to combat income inequality. Hillary heard their voices during the primary, she needs help putting their plans into action and not being shouted down. [...] Protest is important when your voice isn’t heard. Once someone starts to listen, you need to be willing to come to the table with plans. ​I was a late comer to the Hilliary campaign, having been a Bernie supporter with the intention of supporting the Democratic nominee should he not prevail. [...] So, I came into the Convention backing Hilliary as the Democratic nominee, not as the first woman nominated by a major party nominee. Yet, as the Convention aired night after night, I found myself in awe of our Party; our diversity, our passion, our determination, our pride in, and love for, our current President & First Family and Vice President & Second Family, our current Presidential & Vice Presidential nominees & their families, and of America, our great country.[...] You guessed it, by the time Chelsea had finished her wonderfully warm and loving introduction of her mother, I was bawling like a baby. I am no longer an unwilling backer of Hilliary Clinton. Deal me in.

I am voting for Hillary, not the lesser of two evils, because my party showed me who she really is, warts and all.

In browsing through hundreds of comments there, I did not see one that referred to Hillary Clinton as a hag or a bitch, or even expressed "concern" about her voice or face or carriage. And I can tell you, THAT IS REAL PROGRESS.

Someone did refer to Megyn Kelly as "a tool," which, while an ad hominem attack, is at least not sexist.

Returning to a broader media scope: I browsed a great many mainstream press pieces about Clinton's acceptance speech. Apart from the National Review, almost all of them focused on the content of her speech. Maybe they were effectively shamed back in March, when even the likes of USA Today pointed out that male pundits were focusing disproportionately on her unfeminine delivery. But, whatever the reason, they have done much better today, and, America, that is something to be proud of.

​You know what made me mad on Wednesday night? A faction of the audience at the convention chanting "No More War" so loudly that it significantly distracted attention from former Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta saying this (my transcription):

"Donald Trump asks our troops to commit war crimes, endorses torture, spurns our allies from Europe to Asia, suggests that countries have nuclear weapons, and he praises dictators from Saddam Hussein to Vladimir Putin. Today-- only today-- let me point out something that just happened today. Donald Trump, today, once again took Russia's side. He asked the Russians to interfere in American politics. Think about that. Think about that for a moment. Donald Trump, who wants to be president of the United States, is asking one of our adversaries to engage in hacking, or intelligence efforts, against the United States of America to affect an election. As someone who was responsible for protecting our nation from cyberattacks, it is inconceivable to me that any presidential candidate would be that irresponsible. I say this out of a firm concern for the future of my children and grandchildren: Donald Trump cannot become our commander-in-chief."

I am not a fan of our still-too-hawkish military policy either. But what Panetta was saying at that moment was crucial, highly topical, and potentially convincing to voters who might not be members of the choir. It needed to be heard loud and clear. But even I had trouble listening through the drama of the disruption. And headlines this morning tended to focus on the protest instead of Panetta's message. Does anybody really, truly, 100% honestly believe that Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump are "equally as horrible?" Or can those of us who don't like Clinton (I kind of do) try and remember what "lesser" means when they announce that they don't want to "pick between the lesser of two evils?" When there are only two possible outcomes, WHY WOULD YOU NOT PICK WHAT YOU YOURSELF HAVE IDENTIFIED AS THE LESSER OF TWO EVILS?

Okay. So that was Panetta. Now some excerpts from a couple of people who weren't relentlessly heckled.

Michael Bloomberg's speech-- and he's not even a Democrat (he spoke in favor of Bush at the 2004 Republican convention), and he's a billionaire like Trump, so why are we not heckling him if we're going to heckle somebody?-- anyway, Bloomberg's speech may have seemed like lukewarm support from the point of view of Clinton supporters. It basically cast Clinton as... the lesser of two evils. And, again, as far as undecided voters go, it is the exact speech that needs to be made, over and over and over again.

There are times when I disagree with Hillary. But whatever our disagreements may be, I've come here to say: We must put them aside for the good of our country. And we must unite around the candidate who can defeat a dangerous demagogue. [...]

Throughout his career, Trump has left behind a well-documented record of bankruptcies, thousands of lawsuits, angry shareholders and contractors who feel cheated, and disillusioned customers who feel ripped off. Trump says he wants to run the nation like he's run his business. God help us. [...]The bottom line is: Trump is a risky, reckless, and radical choice. And we can't afford to make that choice!

Now, I know Hillary Clinton is not flawless; no candidate is. But she is the right choice — and the responsible choice — in this election. No matter what you may think about her politics or her record, Hillary Clinton understands that this is not reality television; this is reality. She understands the job of president. It involves finding solutions, not pointing fingers, and offering hope, not stoking fear. [...]

​The presidency of the United States is the most powerful office in the world, and so I say to my fellow Independents: Your vote matters now. Your vote will determine the future of your job, your business, and our future together as a country.

To me, this election is not a choice between a Democrat and a Republican. It's a choice about who is better to lead our country right now: better for our economy, better for our security, better for our freedom, and better for our future.

There is no doubt in my mind that Hillary Clinton is the right choice this November. So tonight, as an Independent, I am asking you to join with me — not out of party loyalty, but out of love of country. And together, let's elect Hillary Clinton as the next President of the greatest country in the world, the United States of America.

I can't believe I am quoting extensively from a speech by the 8th-richest person in the world, ​a man who supported George W. Bush, and a man who could say, elsewhere in his speech last night, "When I enter the voting booth each time, I look at the candidate, not the party label." (Ow, the stupid hurts! You are aware of how our legislatures work under a two-party system, right?) But that is kind of the point. All kinds of non-insane people can and should come together now to support the non-insane candidate, whether we agree on all the finer points or not, even whether we agree on the big points or not. Hillary Clinton is the non-insane candidate. Ergo, we must fight for her.

Finally, for anyone (like myself) who fell asleep before our beloved President Obama, who finally took the podium close to 11 pm, got very far into his remarks: let me leave you with a selection of his well-chosen words.

This guy.

Now, eight years ago, Hillary and I were rivals for the Democratic nomination. We battled for a year and a half. Let me tell you, it was tough, because Hillary’s tough. Every time I thought I might have that race won, Hillary just came back stronger.

But after it was all over, I asked Hillary to join my team. She was a little surprised, but ultimately said yes – because she knew that what was at stake was bigger than either of us. And for four years, I had a front-row seat to her intelligence, her judgment, and her discipline. I came to realize that her unbelievable work ethic wasn’t for praise or attention – that she was in this for everyone who needs a champion. [...]

You know, nothing truly prepares you for the demands of the Oval Office. Until you’ve sat at that desk, you don’t know what it’s like to manage a global crisis, or send young people to war. But Hillary’s been in the room; she’s been part of those decisions. She knows what’s at stake in the decisions our government makes for the working family, the senior citizen, the small business owner, the soldier, and the veteran. Even in the middle of crisis, she listens to people, and keeps her cool, and treats everybody with respect. And no matter how daunting the odds; no matter how much people try to knock her down, she never, ever quits.

​That’s the Hillary I know. That’s the Hillary I’ve come to admire. And that’s why I can say with confidence there has never been a man or a woman more qualified than Hillary Clinton to serve as President of the United States of America. [...]

And then there’s Donald Trump. He’s not really a plans guy. Not really a facts guy, either. He calls himself a business guy, which is true, but I have to say, I know plenty of businessmen and women who’ve achieved success without leaving a trail of lawsuits, and unpaid workers, and people feeling like they got cheated.

Does anyone really believe that a guy who’s spent his 70 years on this Earth showing no regard for working people is suddenly going to be your champion? [...]

America is already great. America is already strong. And I promise you, our strength, our greatness does not depend on Donald Trump.

In fact, it doesn't depend on any one person. And that, in the end, may be the biggest difference in this election, the meaning of our democracy. [...]

America has never been about what one person says he'll do for us. It's about what can be achieved by us, together, through the hard and slow and sometimes frustrating, but ultimately enduring work of self-government.

And that's what Hillary Clinton understands. She knows that this is a big, diverse country, she has seen it, she's traveled, she's talked to folks and she understands that most issues are rarely black and white. She understands that even when you're 100 percent right, getting things done requires compromise. That democracy doesn't work if we constantly demonize each other. [...]

These are the things that Hillary knows. It can be frustrating, this business of democracy. Trust me, I know. Hillary knows, too. When the other side refuses to compromise, progress can stall. People are hurt by the inaction. Supporters can grow impatient and worry that you're not trying hard enough, that you've maybe sold out.

But I promise you, when we keep at it, when we change enough minds, when we deliver enough votes, then progress does happen. And if you doubt that, just ask the 20 million more people who have health care today. Just ask the Marine who proudly serves his country without hiding the husband that he loves. [...]

See, my grandparents, they came from the heartland. Their ancestors began settling there about 200 years ago. I don't know if they had their birth certificates, but they were there.

They were Scotch-Irish mostly, farmers, teachers, ranch hands, pharmacists, oil rig workers. Hardy, small-town folks. Some were Democrats, but a lot of them, maybe even most of them were Republicans, the party of Lincoln. And my grandparents explained that folks in these parts, they didn't like show-offs, they didn't admire braggarts or bullies.

They didn't respect mean-spiritedness or folks who were always looking for shortcuts in life. Instead, they valued traits like honesty and hard work, kindness, courtesy, humility, responsibility; helping each other out. That's what they believed in. True things, things that last, the things we try to teach our kids.

And what my grandparents understood was that these values weren't limited to Kansas. They weren't limited to small towns. These values could travel to Hawaii.​They could travel even the other side of the world, where my mother would end up working to help poor women get a better life trying to apply those values. My grandparents knew these values weren't reserved for one race; they could be passed down to a half- Kenyan grandson, or a half-Asian granddaughter; in fact, they were the same values Michelle's parents, the descendants of slaves, taught their own kids living in a bungalow on the south side of Chicago.

They knew these values were exactly what drew immigrants here, and they believed that the children of those immigrants were just as American as their own, whether they wore a cowboy hat or a yarmulke, a baseball cap or a hijab.

America has changed over the years. But these values that my grandparents taught me, they haven't gone anywhere. They're as strong as ever; still cherished by people of every party, every race, every faith. They live on in each of us. What makes us American, what makes us patriots is what's in here. That's what matters.

And that's why we can take the food and music and holidays and styles of other countries and blend it into something uniquely our own. That's why we can attract strivers and entrepreneurs from around the globe to build new factories and create new industries here. That's why our military can look the way it does, every shade of humanity, forged into common service. That's why anyone who threatens our values, whether fascists or communists or jihadists or homegrown demagogues, will always fail in the end.

​I will miss you, dear Mr. President: the only truly great president of my lifetime so far. May we not tarnish your legacy by immediately electing a maniac to undo everything you've accomplished.

This is one of those times when it is hard not to turn every blog into a political blog. I am horrified right now, people. And I have nothing more worthy or insightful to say than anyone else, but still, I cannot help but take a moment to say: WTF? WTF, America?

Bizarrely available via Weebly's free image library.

Do you want this two-dimensional billboard of a two-bit dictator to be your head of state? Because that is exactly what you are flirting with. Rumor has it that actual governing will be delegated, as befits a leader who has no interest in being more than a paper tiger. Unless it turns out that he is basically Mussolini. It is not clear which one it will be, which is a stunning risk to take.

In particular: sane people know that, if we do not do everything we can to slow climate change RIGHT THIS MINUTE, and redouble those efforts constantly via improved technology and cultural adaptation, much of humanity will not survive for long, and many of those who are surviving will be getting by only by the skin of their teeth. WE CANNOT AFFORD TO WAIT UNTIL THIS STUPID, SELF-DEFEATING NATIONAL WHIM PLAYS ITSELF OUT. We don't have 4 years, or 8 years, or longer than that if our current political system is subverted. Not only the future of the United States is at stake, but, by virtue of our emissions as well as our foreign and economic policies, the entire world will potentially fall victim to the vagaries of our national freaking mood.

Hillary Clinton isn't perfect, but she will keep us moving-- albeit more slowly than I would like-- in the right direction while we search for better answers. She can at least correctly identify many of the problems, even if she doesn't have all the solutions handy. She is basically on the right side of most issues, and she has the practical experience-- in multiple branches of government-- to know how things actually get accomplished. Would I like someone with a magic wand to come along and change the world radically, right now, to my specifications? Of course! And Hillary Clinton will not be that person.

But she's also not a crook, nor a whore, nor a lying bitch; and she's certainly-- and I can't believe I even have to make this distinction-- not an egocentric fascist (and possible tool of Russia?), which makes her far superior to Donald J. Trump. So I'm not going let her imperfections send me into a hissy fit resulting in a protest vote for a) the most dangerous presidential candidate we've seen in a long time, b) Jill Stein (whom you know damn well can't win) or c) nobody, nobody, nobody, I'll put my fingers in my ears and hum loud and STAY HOME. Please, people! I don't actually believe it is hyperbole to say, THE FUTURE OF THE ENTIRE WORLD IS AT STAKE. Not that Hillary Clinton can save the world. But Donald Trump could certainly destroy it.

I know, it sounds like hysteria. But he could! Directly, or much more likely, indirectly, while he is farting around with his walls and his fomenting of hatreds and erecting of statues in his own honor. We do not have time for this.

And for those who are beginning to wail that, because of a few recent polls showing him in an improved position, Trump has already won... you're making me so angry I can hardly see straight. Believe me, I can relate to your sense of panic. But, if we have less than four months to avert the apocalypse, please let's not use this time wearing sackcloth and lying in ashes. If you live in a state that is at all competitive, go volunteer for the Clinton campaign right now. If you don't, donate what you can. Talk to people. Stay informed and don't propagate nonsense. WE MUST WIN AND WE WILL.

June 14Breakfast: lemon water, coffee, smoothie made from limeade, ricotta cheese, hemp protein powder, blueberries, frozen peaches, frozen strawberries, and kale. This tastes good when I first try it, but once it sits around a while the texture becomes lumpy. I think the limeade curdled the ricotta. Fortunately, I bought my husband some nice big stainless steel straws for our our anniversary ("silverware" being one of the traditional 5th anniversary gifts), and these make it easier to ignore the texture of our smoothies.

Mid-morning, I am in Silver Spring and have half an hour to kill before picking my kid up early from school, after a morning exam. The most convenient spot to buy a coffee near my parked car is the Tastee Diner, so I do something I don't normally do these days: go in and take a table by myself. For $3.98 (plus tip), I have a decaf coffee and "a biscuit" (but, when it arrives, it is two biscuits), with butter and jam. Quite a deal. I read a book. It is fun.

We get home about 10:30. A slow morning. After finally showering, I have another cup of coffee around noon and get to writing. Lunch after that: a leftover chicken leg, an attempt to reproduce the British "bacon roll" with soft white bakery toast, butter, and leftover cooked bacon from last night, and leftover asparagus. This was a lot of heavy food and the whole "bacon roll" thing just didn't taste quite right. It is no wonder that the scale says I have gained 5 lbs. since last Thursday. While this seems physically impossible, there is no doubt that I have been doing my best.

​After shopping, I put the chickpeas on to cook for Madhur Jaffrey's Swiss Chard with Tomatoes and Chickpeas, and turn my attention to other matters until they are done, 2 and a half hours later. At a more reasonable dinnertime, I prep the rest of the vegetables for this dish and stick a couple of red peppers in the oven to roast. As Jaffrey suggests, we eat the chard dish with a crusty wheat bread, two kinds of Italian cheese (an aged piave and a fresh asiago), and roasted red peppers. This is a pleasant meal; the bread-and-cheese board on the table is always popular when it appears at my house. I don't do it that often because, in order to control portion size, I tend to plate my family's meals in the kitchen. (This works well for us, except the part where kid tends to waste about 1/3 of the food on their plate. However, they do this even when they have served themselves.) I like the chard, especially the prep tip that suggests slicing the pretty red stems fairly small and cooking them along with the leaves. It's striking how much this adds to the visual attractiveness of the dish. I have also discovered, as I noted in a previous post, that I greatly prefer the texture of these long-cooked greens recipes when the pot is not covered. It requires adding some extra water, but the final texture is much less gelatinous.

​Have I forgotten to mention that I've been drinking a glass of wine most nights with dinner, or after dinner, for the past week or so? I have leftover bottles of both red and white wine open (as well as sherry. How long does sherry keep? Anecdotal answers range from one week to forever (I think the people who said "forever" might have been my parents). Tonight I have white wine.​Also, the last two mint chocolates. And I am hungry again before bed, so have a little more bread and cheese.June 15A regular work day. Breakfast: lemon water, coffee, smoothie made from raspberry lemonade, plain Greek yogurt, hemp protein powder, almond butter, blueberries, banana, and CSA lettuce. I had another cup of decaf coffee (lightened with heavy cream of late, as I finish up the cream from the cheesecake) before work, and another one once I got to work. I was hungry.

Lunch when I got home at 2:45 was regular coffee, the last leftover chicken leg from Friday night, and leftover asparagus. Then I had to rush back out again in order to take my kid to a brief doctor's appointment. Home again 4:45, more decaf coffee, reading, a very short nap, housework.

I started dinner about 6:30-- a use-up-what-you-have-in-the-house sort of affair. We had an egg scramble with CSA kohlrabi and garlic scapes, cilantro and the last of the fresh asiago cheese; also fruit salad made with blueberries, strawberries, raspberries and the first good peaches of the year; and white bakery toast with cream cheese and the blackberry jam we bought at the beach. Also I had a glass of red wine.

​June 16No work today; my last day at home before my husband and I go on a three-day weekend trip to Shenandoah National Park. We've been looking forward to it. But I have lots to do today. I have the usual breakfast, unusually early (husband woke up at 5:15 for some reason): lemon water, coffee, smoothie made from pear juice, hemp protein powder, avocado, banana, blueberries, strawberries, and CSA red lettuce. This was a particularly pleasant one. Nothing weird.

After showering and dressing, another cup of decaf while I get to work on my computer. That's the last of the heavy cream; kind of a relief.

By lunchtime, my kid is home from their last final exam (goodbye, 9th grade!) and I have a couple of errands to do in town, so we go out for lunch at our local Thai restaurant, eat outside at a table on the sidewalk. Kid orders up a storm, and I have a garden roll (fresh veggies and rice noodles wrapped in rice paper, peanut dipping sauce), an eel-and-avocado sushi roll, and a pomegranate lemonade, of which I drink half (kid finishes it). Somehow we manage to spend $46 on lunch. And it wasn't because of me, just saying.

When we get home, I have coffee, and in the afternoon, there is another cup of decaf, of course. I can't say what I was doing; husband and I are going away for a long weekend tomorrow, and this day is a blur in retrospect. Always so much to do to get ready.

For dinner, I fix some fusilli pasta with sauce made from things I need to get rid of: canned plum tomatoes, fresh sage, fresh tomatoes, garlic scapes, red wine. We sprinkle some goat cheese on top, but this turns out to be a mistake, because the goat cheese tastes slightly rancid. Goddamn co-op, which is terrible about keeping on top of product freshness. I paid like $6.50 for that cheese. Side salad of mixed lettuces, cilantro, strawberries, balsamic vinaigrette. Glass of white wine.

​June 12I woke up early in the morning and hence seemed to be one of the first among my acquaintance to hear this bad news. So, like some significant subset of America probably, I cried over my morning coffee. And the day never really recovered; basically we refreshed news pages all day, interrupted the news-refreshing briefly to go out for an unusually late brunch, took an early evening nap, had supper, watched the Tonys. There was a morning smoothie, then more coffee (decaf and then regular again). No coffee tasted good to me today. Brunch consisted of a bagel platter with cream cheese, smoked salmon, tomato, and red onion, and a couple of slices of cucumber and an olive. I ordered a side of bacon, but it was so huge (6 slices?) that I didn't finish it. I think I ate 2 slices. I also ate a few of my husband's french fries.

At home, more decaf. Still yucky. At some point I ate one of the mint chocolate truffles my husband bought me for our anniversary. At dinnertime we ate light. I made Madhur Jaffrey's Young Swiss Chard with Sesame Seeds, some plain white basmati rice, and stir-fried tofu. I liked the treatment of the chard: the way the leaves are left whole, parboiled, then dressed with sauce, gave the vegetable some remaining heft and structure instead of cooking down to a concentrated mush like so many of Jaffrey's other greens recipes. Therefore a couple of ordinary-sized bunches of chard can actually serve several people as a proper side dish.

​So, we watched the Tonys, stayed up late, celebrated Hamilton, went to bed finally a little before midnight. And could not, could not, could not sleep. First it was my husband who was up, then I was, then both of us for a long time, then him, then me again. The only part of the night where anybody got more than a half hour of consecutive sleep was between 4-5:45 am. Terrible. And, when I am awake in the middle of the night, I get hungry. I had a few cashews, a couple of handfuls of raspberries. None of this helped. Finally I ate my leftover fancy rockfish dish from Republic, cold straight out of the box, in the kitchen in the dark at 3:30 am. But I salted it first and it tasted better than it did in the restaurant. Then I finally fell asleep on the couch.

Note: I have an Internet friend who, as the tragedies piled up over the months of June and July, kept taking to Facebook to plead with people, "Everybody please stop posting about what they ate today and DO something"-- she felt that somehow the continuing presence of these everyday or frivolous topics demonstrated that nobody else cared about the giant clusterfuck that is the human race right now. While I can sympathize with her desperation (and she wasn't even addressing me-- I don't post about what I eat on Facebook), I disagree on principle. People, even in times of chaos or despair, or perhaps especially then, need to be sustained by the everyday. Having brunch with my husband, watching an awards show with my teenager, cooking swiss chard in a new way, all gave me (us) the grounding in love and hope that we needed to get through this sad day. Those were not ALL we did-- we talked with others about violence, LGBT rights, and gun control-- my LGBT child went off with their girlfriend to the DC Pride festival, refusing to feel fearful-- but, ultimately, most of these tragedies are beyond our direct control. Continuing to live our mundane lives parallel to our own and others' pain is not only permissible, but necessary.

Guns and tomatoes: both real things.

​June 13Oh, we are so tired this morning. After my lemon water and getting my kid off to school, I go back to sleep for 45 minutes. Then get back up as late as I can get away with, fix my coffee and breakfast (no smoothie this morning, my husband has a doctor's appointment and has to fast until then). Breakfast is a leftover chicken leg, the remaining bacon from brunch yesterday at the Parkway Deli, and leftover vegetables from Friday night. I am not very hungry but I have to go to work this morning, need the energy. My energy is bolstered by a surprise piece of insane luck-- new Hamilton tickets have been released overnight, and I find three orchestra tickets for next January 27 at a reasonable price: $350 apiece. That's still expensive, of course, but nothing like what people are generally paying for Hamilton right now.

Work ends up being exhausting-- only time for one cup of decaf coffee, quite early in the morning before it gets busy. Then things go crazy and I am lucky to remember to drink water.

Back at home, I catch up on coffee-- regular and decaf, which I am drinking with heavy cream right now, left over from making cheesecake-- and eat lunch even though I don't feel hungry. I have some leftover corned beef my husband pulled out of his overstuffed omelet on Sunday, on an English muffin with some melted swiss cheese. Also leftover hash browns we brought home from the restaurant. Nothing productive is going to get done on this day. In the early evening, I take a nap again. Then get up and make dinner: the BLTs with Runny Egg from Smitten Kitchen, along with some steamed CSA asparagus with a quick Asian-style dressing, and little cups of mixed berries. The BLTs with egg are really truly great and I would be excited about them if I were actually hungry. The white bakery bread with mayonnaise is a special treat, the bacon high-quality, the tomatoes pretty good actually, and the eggs-- though not strictly runny-- are a perfect over-medium-well, the kind of soft-but-not-liquid egg so many of us are striving for. My kid complains that the iceberg lettuce, which I bought for the occasion, is "really bitter." I don't understand this-- iceberg lettuce doesn't have much flavor at all, right?-- but respect their preference for better lettuce, I guess.

Another mint chocolate. Dishes, walk, bed. I worry that we won't be able to fall asleep again, but then we do.

Our wedding anniversary. But I have to work first. I start off the morning with the usual: lemon water, coffee, smoothie. I try putting the leftover ricotta cheese in the smoothie. It is pretty good and I would never guess the secret ingredient.

I'm dreading going to work this morning because the air conditioning has been out and it is forecast to get up to 95 degrees today. But it turns out that workmen are installing new air conditioning units when I arrive. They work great! My whole attitude is altered, and the day becomes much more pleasant, despite various other sorts of mishaps. I also consume a couple of cups of coffee (1 decaf, 1 regular), as well as odds and ends of leftover drinks (a little banana milkshake, a little pineapple-mango-kale juice), and eat a sandwich as I make my way home on foot after 3:30: grilled cheddar cheese with bulgogi and tomato on sourdough bread. I should have had something lighter, as I know we are going out for a nice anniversary dinner tonight. Mistake.

At home, I have a cup of decaf coffee and decompress, change, go over to the Co-op for provisions, and then ultimately fall asleep next to my husband.

We wake back up a little after seven, and dress for dinner, even though I am still not all that hungry. Dumbass. Anyhow. It is after eight by the time we get seated, so that helps a little. We are at Republic, which I still think of as a "new" restaurant, even though by now it has probably been there for a couple of years. It is pricey, and from the outside I thought it would be rather trendy and intimidating, so this is our first visit, even though it is actually across the street from my own restaurant and I vaguely know several of the employees as my customers. (Can't Republic make breakfast sandwiches for its own staff? Apparently not.) Inside, I discover that it is not remotely intimidating. Young people going out on a Saturday night mix with elderly folks wearing preppy golf clothes and middle-aged Takoma Park hippies in ugly cotton tunics and Tevas. The dining room already looks somewhat chaotic and worn. The service... well, our service is excellent. But it is also bizarrely personalized. Our server turns out to be a guy who used to work at my restaurant as a dishwasher. He treats my husband and I like royalty. Maybe he treats everyone like that, I don't know. But then the bartender comes over and personally greets us, chit-chats a bit. At the end, we find our dessert and coffees have been comped, no reason except that we are being welcomed as fellow local restaurant staff, I guess. I never would have expected to get the VIP treatment here, just because I sell these people a few breakfast sandwiches (double bacon, avocado, egg and cheese, always). So I come away with the impression that Republic takes its role as a community member much more seriously than I realized. Points for that.

​Now to the food: I started with a "Localist" cocktail, which was a fancied-up gin drink, with local honey and lemon and a candied grapefruit garnish. The garnish was fantastic. Delicious candy! The drink: fine. We had a little bit of bread and olive oil, no biggie; I could have skipped this but my husband wanted it. As an appetizer, we shared a small portion of the seemingly-modest dish most raved about by Yelpers: their Ancient Grains salad. There was a lot going on in this dish, from feta to mint to dill to pomegranate seeds to fried shallots to god-knows-what-else. It was a mouth party, though a somewhat confusing one. Did I like it? Sure. Would I order it again? Probably not, unless somebody else really wanted it. To the entree. I ordered rockfish atop a bed of mixed-something-or-other. According to the menu, the little grains were actually small herb dumplings-- I would have had trouble identifying these-- and there were some minced vegetables in there-- perhaps some squash? It tasted good, but was short on salt (ironically, since a common theme in reviews is that this restaurant oversalts everything), and salt was not available on the table because surely all food came out seasoned EXACTLY RIGHT. I think this represents a bit of hubris on the part of a restaurant. Tastes vary and chefs are not perfectly consistent. Anyway. I saved half of this to take home, because I was full and because I could salt it there.

For dessert, I ordered an americano and we shared a piece of carrot-parsnip cake with dulce de leche ice cream. The cake was good-- I couldn't really tell it from plain old carrot cake-- but the ice cream was to-die-for. Next time I might just order that. And I don't eat ice cream very often. The decaf americano was also very, very good. My husband had plain decaf coffee and he said that he couldn't even tell it was decaf, which is very high praise coming from him. All in all we had a nice time-- though it was too noisy to talk much-- and spent quite a bit of money, by coincidence almost exactly the amount I earned during the day.

Still feeling allergic in the morning, also just Not Good. Hard to say why. Breakfast as usual, even while mind does not feel as usual, rebels silently against having breakfast as usual while reading internet news as usual, sitting in the dining room as usual. Lemon water, coffee with half and half, smoothie made from sour cherry juice, plain Greek yogurt, hemp protein powder, almond butter, farm strawberries, mango, and farm lettuce. I wonder how ricotta cheese would go in a smoothie? I have some left over. (Well, whaddya know-- check out "Bone Builder" in this article. Although none of the smoothies here sound particularly inspired.) Cup of decaf with half and half while finishing news, etc., before shower.

At noontime, after yoga class, another cup of coffee while settling down with my computer to write. I don't feel like working. I feel like maybe reading and taking a nap. We'll see. Meanwhile, I have some lunch: leftover lasagna (half the size of last night's portion, so 1/8 lasagna), and some salted cashews. End up kind-of-working: doing research for a fairly lightweight blog post. Have another cup of decaf with half and half.

​A little after four, I turn my efforts to dinner: I'm starting a new cookbook!: Best-ever Curry Cookbook(2001) from Mridula Baljekar. So I need to marinate the chicken for the first recipe: the Kashmiri Chicken Curry. Right away there are a couple of issues. First, as I mentioned, I was unable to find any kashmiri spice paste at the grocery. So I just substitute some good old garam masala. That is probably wrong and I probably should have looked up what kashmiri spice paste might consist of, tried to cobble some ingredients together to approximate it. (Belatedly, here it is: it is different from garam masala in including fennel, fenugreek, red chilis, turmeric, and bay leaves, while it does not contain cardamom or cloves, at least according to the recipes I looked at. Sounds a bit more savory, less with the "sweet" spices.) Also, I thought for sure I had 5-spice powder-- for years and years I had a big bag of it that I never, ever used, because I don't really like 5-spice powder. Now it seems to be gone. I may have thrown it out. What is 5-spice powder doing in an Indian recipe, anyway?? In any case, I don't have any. I skip it. (Belated answer: they probably meant this, which is actually Indian, not this, the Chinese kind. Who knew?) Third, the recipe calls for 8 "joints" of chicken. For some reason, when I went grocery shopping, I did not look up what might be meant by this, but instead assumed it meant 8 whole chicken legs (including thigh and drumstick). Today, looking at my mountain of meat, it occurred to me that 8 joints probably just means 8 pieces. And actually, I had bought 10 whole chicken legs, forgotten that I meant to keep 2 of them back for another weekend dinner, and put all 10 into the marinade. I have not nearly enough marinade, and enough chicken to feed an army. I do not know what I was thinking. About any of it.

Ginger, lemon, garlic.

​While the chicken marinates in its measly quantity of all-wrong spice paste, I start on a glass of white wine left over from last night's mushroom-glazing. The rest of the meal consists of plain white rice, and some vegetables I have lying around (young onions, peas and beet greens from the CSA, sauteed with just some turmeric, salt and cayenne pepper). Cooking the mountain of chicken proves a time-consuming chore, because I cannot brown it all at once in my wok, and then it takes extra simmering time due to the multiple layers. It tastes OK, not exciting. Next time, I won't make so many stupid mistakes.

Later in the evening, we finish off the last two portions of the rhubarb "cheesecake" I made last night. Strangely, it has improved in flavor and texture from the previous night. Well, I guess cheesecake generally does. But nobody ever indicates this in their recipes. I need the reminder.

June 8The usual kind of before-work morning. Breakfast is lemon water, coffee with half and half, and a smoothie made from grape juice, goat kefir, hemp protein powder, almond butter, dates, strawberries, blueberries, and CSA lettuce. I really need to use up some CSA lettuce.

At work, I have a cup of decaf coffee in the morning when it is slow, and a cup of regular at noontime. After that, it gets busy, and I forget the fact that I am hungry.

Back at home, 3:00, it is time for lunch: leftover pasta from last night, a slice of multigrain toast with melted swiss cheese. Decaf coffee with half and half.

I have arranged to meet my husband in Silver Spring for a movie this evening. I leave some Whole Foods sushi for my kid to eat for dinner, and plan to meet my husband at the Panera by the movie theater at 6:30. However, the metro is experiencing big delays because of repairs, and my husband is late; I end up eating at Panera by myself. I have a whole-grain bagel with cream cheese and tomato, and a decaf coffee which I end up hardly drinking. I get another bagel for my husband and hide it in my purse for him to eat during the movie. Once we get to the theater, I also buy us a bag of Reese's peanut butter cups to share. The movie is rich in melodrama, and by the time we leave we are exhausted.

​After an afternoon of shopping at REI and some other places, including Giant, I come home and have some decaf coffee and talk to my kid. Also, I eat the last four mini-Reese's peanut butter cups over the course of the afternoon and early evening.​Shopping (Giant): 2 packages English muffins, free-range eggs, lactose-free 2% milk, 8 AA batteries, natural dish soap, Cascadian Farm oats & honey granola, coconut water, tart cherry juice, bananas, 3 small yellow mangos, salted cashews, 2 pints blueberries. $48.

About 5:30, in the midst of my cup of decaf, I start dinner and dessert more or less simultaneously. I am making the Mushroom and Burrata Lasagnette from October's Bon Appetit (the recipe also provides for a kale salad on the side), and Molly Yeh's recently posted Whipped Yogurt Cheesecake with Roasted Rhubarb, which my husband has selected (loosely) as his "pie-of-the-month.". Bon Appetit has listed their lasagnette in a group of dinners-for-two ("You and Me"), and then gently given away that it does not fit there ("Listen, this dish is indulgent, and makes a bit more than two responsible adults should finish in one serving. But for crying out loud, live a little.") It seems to me that you would have to live a lot. I planned this meal for the three of us, and it still looks like too much lasagna to me. Maybe four servings with just kale on the side, or six with additional side dish(es)? Whatever. They had to make it fit their gimmick.

Burrata.

Up close and personal.

​Making dinner is a little bit of a whirlwind, what with trying to prep the lasagna and prep the cheesecakes at the same time. Poor planning. I do manage to fit in a glass of red wine, and my husband calls to say he fell asleep in his office chair and will be late, so everything works out okay.

​Okay, 1/4 of the lasagna apiece, which is what I plated up, is still too much. I finish my serving but am overly full. Half the lasagna, which is the serving generously suggested by Bon Appetit, would have covered an entire dinner plate. Maybe hung off the edges a little. Are they nuts? The flavor is pretty good, not amazing. It is a fairly dry lasagna. I would like more sauce, some form of moisture. Also more salt, but that is my own fault. I should have put more salt in the ricotta. The raw kale salad is chewy.

As for dessert, which we eat not long afterwards, it is okay, but I am not wildly thrilled with it. Once again, Yeh's dessert is very low on sweetness (even though she refers to the 1/2 c. of sugar added to the roasted rhubarb as an "ass-ton"). The only part that is distinctly sweet is the crumb crust, and that, due to the addition of what seems to me like too much coconut oil, has become a kind of hard brick at the bottom of the glass instead of a crumbly layer. I have to stab at it, hard, with my spoon in order to break it up. Visually, though, the layered glasses are very pretty. I will have to try a few more of her recipes, but I am wondering if the gorgeousness of her blog means that her interests lie more in design than in flavor. Design-wise, her website is my very favorite!

In the wee hours of the morning, my throat is really scratchy. It's too close to alarm-clock time to take an antihistamine, so I go into the kitchen for half a glass of full-fat milk, which usually helps. Pour it in the dark, take a couple of big swallows before brain catches up with mouth to figure out what is wrong. The milk is really thick, tastes bitter. It's gone sour... really sour. I don't drink milk much-- this carton is more or less allocated to my kid-- but how have they not noticed before now?? Uck. I rinse out my glass, pour the carton of whole milk down the sink, take a little of the lowfat lactose-free stuff to wash the flavor away. It helps enough that I can get back to sleep for a couple more hours.

Then we do the usual morning stuff: lemon water, black coffee, smoothies made from pomegranate cranberry juice, peach lemonade, plain goat kefir, canned pumpkin, hemp protein powder, avocado, banana, plum, and canned papaya. Sounds weird, but it wasn't as weird as yesterday's. After breakfast (and it is late by now, at least 10:30) I have another cup of (decaf) coffee, with half and half, and read, and post stuff on Facebook.

So now it's after noon on Sunday, and pretty much nothing at all has happened. That's okay. For brunch/lunch, I suggest to my husband that we go to the crepe place in Silver Spring, and then walk around that neighborhood (which we like), looking at houses. So we do. We even eat outside at a little wrought iron table. We each have a savory crepe-- I have avocado, tomato, and cheese-- and then share a sweet crepe for dessert, just butter-and-sugar. And drink black coffee out of paper cups. It is pleasant, and I bring the rest of my coffee with me while we walk around. My husband and I disagree, but amiably, about which kinds of porch architecture are appealing or oppressive. We are thinking about buying a house sometime in the next couple of years.

Later I go off alone to write/read/fart around on the computer, and drink another cup of decaf with half and half. Ah, Sundays.

Dinner: I manage to get the Amy's frozen enchiladas (the ones I meant to make yesterday) into the oven around 6:15-- two entrees to share three ways, since kid is home tonight. Therefore they require a lot of side dishes. I bake the rest of the smallish sweet potatoes we got at the farmer's market-- just whole, with butter; mix up some fruit (lots of raspberries, some blueberries, strawberries, plum and cantaloupe-- cheat a bit by adding a sprinkle of sugar and lemon); and make a salad of lettuces and shelled peas from the CSA farm, with balsamic dressing. I really get excited about the rare treat of fresh shelling peas. The lettuces have been a little tough, from the farm; it seems like they are being allowed to get too big before harvest.

The dinner was really not so filling, even with all the side dishes, so later on we end up snacking in front of the TV (more Office reruns). I have about 10 saltine crackers that my kid has brought out to share, and then some plain yogurt with maple syrup before bed.

June 6A bit of chaos this morning. Husband, trying to get out the door by 6 am, inadvertently interfered with kid's shower schedule, and I ended up driving kid to school when I would normally be eating breakfast. Had lemon water and half a cup of coffee before leaving, the other half cup of cold coffee when I returned. Afterwards, I have breakfast: leftover okra and rice from Saturday night, and a small dish of raisins and peanuts. Decaf coffee (a fresh hot cup) with half and half.

However, writing requires a cuppa, for me, so after my shower I make yet another decaf coffee to get me through the later part of the morning. At noon, another cup of regular. Somehow, I manage to delay lunch until after 1:30, at which point-- just as I am preparing to get up and eat-- the owner of my restaurant calls. We're two employees short, again, and there is no one to wait tables after 2:00. I reluctantly agree to come right in, changing clothes and walking out the door with a near-empty pint of vanilla ice cream from the freezer, and a spoon. 4 or 5 spoonfuls of vanilla ice cream before work. I toss the container in a trash can on the way.

After I've been at work half an hour or so, I know I need a real lunch, and order a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich on an English muffin. That takes care of things, though it is somewhat decadent. It's a quiet afternoon in terms of customers, once the 2:00 rush is over-- although there's plenty of excitement in the form of health inspectors, to-go milkshakes and catering orders-- so I have time for yet another cup of decaf with half and half.

Back at home, I am thirsty-- the air conditioning at work is still broken, and a coworker brought in a thermometer in order to measure the air temperature in there: 97 degrees. If only OSHA inspectors showed up unannounced as often as health inspectors. I drink half a glass of peach lemonade and some (more) water. After a rest (during which my child reads me terrible, terrible Harry Potter fan fiction, including a fundamentalist Christian adaptation), I go over to the Co-op to buy a quick dinner.

​Dinner: My husband has the chickpea wrap, my kid has the salmon avocado roll, and I have the california roll. We share the cheese puffs, about 1/4 of the bag each. I have a glass of wine, which of course then lasts me well into the evening. In the summer, when I have some seasonal allergies anyways, wine always makes them worse, so I end up following my glass of wine with a little Benadryl. Fun times. Come to think of it, that probably isn't the best combination.

​June 7Breakfast: lemon water, coffee with half and half, smoothie made from grape juice, plain goat kefir, hemp protein powder, avocado, frozen peaches, fresh strawberries and blueberries. I used quite a bit of the kefir, so it had a much creamier, dairy consistency than usual. Pretty good, thick, not too sweet. I don't notice a lot of goaty flavor in these, either. The goat kefir is a nice option.

After heading out for an appointment, I come home and have a cup of decaf while I finish up my morning reading and planning.

In the late morning, I start making an extensive grocery list, consulting the half-dozen recipes I intend to make in the next week. It takes me about 40 minutes to get it together. By the time I get out the door, it is almost noon, and I am getting hungry for coffee and lunch.

Shopping, first stop: the small Indian grocery on University Ave., whose name I cannot figure out. I am looking for "kashmiri masala paste," as my cookbook referred to it-- a prefab spice blend, I assume, but I cannot find anything by this name at the grocery, even though they have a million different masalas and packaged spice blends. No luck there. I do buy some vegetable oil, basmati rice, and cilantro, the last of which I proceed to ruin entirely by leaving it in my car for several hours until it wilts and turns black. $9.

Shopping, second stop: the liquor store (again, nameless as far as I am concerned) at the Langley Park plaza by the CVS. I've been to this liquor store before and it pretty much sucks. But its location is convenient at this particular moment. I buy some dry sherry and a bottle of white wine, having to guess at the latter because hardly any of the prices are marked on the bottles: irritating. $36. Which it wouldn't have been, if I'd known how much the wine cost.

Shopping, third stop: Whole Foods. Except, it is prime lunchtime and their cafe is packed. I proceed onwards past the Whole Foods and cross the street to BurgerFi. I brought a book. I finish my book while eating a cheeseburger with grilled mushrooms and the smallest size of fries, which is still huge. They don't sell coffee, more's the pity. I just drink water.

At home, after unpacking the groceries, a little after 3:00 (yes, grocery shopping seemed to have taken up the bulk of the day), I finally had my cup of regular coffee. Then some decaf. This whole day seemed to pass in a kind of blur. Before I knew it, it was 6:30 and time to make dinner. At some point during the late afternoon, my kid went over to the Co-op to buy chocolate chips for some cookies they were baking, and I asked them to pick up some rhubarb (which hadn't been available at the Whole Foods) and a replacement bunch of cilantro.

Dinner: fresh linguini with tomato-basil sauce from Whole Foods. I sauteed the kohlrabi and some onions and peas from last week's CSA box to add to the sauce. Side salad of CSA lettuce with sliced almonds and chopped dates, and balsamic dressing. Not a lot of protein in this dinner, and my serving of pasta was small because I was still full from my big burger lunch. So of course I got hungry again later.

It's Tuesday, so after dinner it is time to pick up our CSA box. We arrive at 10 minutes to 9:00, and our farmer is only just arriving to drop off the boxes. This seems rather extremely late to me. Anyway, though, we get to meet him: an older guy than I expected, and not the radical young hippie farmer I figured he was. Caked-in dirt. Horrified by the idea that we put his lettuce in our smoothies-- "Lettuce smoothies?!" He suggested that we shred it, and use it for salads or tacos. The box contains: more lettuces, strawberries that smell amazing the minute you open the lid of the tote, beet greens, sugar snap peas, more asparagus, garlic scapes, kohlrabi. None of the chard or sage that was promised, unfortunately: I need them for recipes.

Later: 1/2 glass of red wine, then a small bowl of mixed raspberries and blackberries sprinkled in sugar, with a splash of goat kefir. After that, an Oh My Yog! lemon yogurt.